


Worthless

by Yellowhouse1890



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Maybe Comfort, I Tried, I think they're a bit OOC, Insecurity, Memories, Post-Time Skip, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, no beta read we just die, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowhouse1890/pseuds/Yellowhouse1890
Summary: A fear slowly wormed its way into his brain and settled in. If he was not better at anything asides from volleyball but not a lot of people cared about that and looks, what would happen if he lost the latter? Atsumu didn’t doubt his abilities in the former and no amount of comments would change that. But he had to be the best to stay useful to his team, and surely watching his weight more closely wasn’t that bad of an idea, right? He could assure himself the only two things he was worth something for were staying steady, and that he wasn’t losing them.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Oikawa Tooru/Iwaizumi Hajime
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Worthless

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly me projecting on Atsumu, so I'm sorry if the characters are OOC, I tried. English isn't my first language so I apologize for any mistake. I'm an Oikawa kinnie so I don't know why my brain wants to project on Atsumu so bad. It's confusing me.
> 
> Trigger warning for anyone who hasn't read the tags : eating disorders and self-hatred.

Atsumu knows he has to stay within the range. It’s essential that he doesn’t go over the numbers. Under is not so much a problem but he knows he still needs to not raise suspicion. Plus, he has to look the same and stay fit. Past the fact that he’s essentially useless to the team because he’s just a bench warmer, Atsumu just knows the only reason why people like him, even today, is because of his looks. This has been a steady constant, from primary school all the way to this point in time. People just didn’t like him. Sure, when the twins were young, he was always the loudest, the proudest and the most outspoken. But what was wrong with being young and excited about something you were good at? Sure, if he was honest maybe he was a bit too sure of himself for his own good. But once this reputation was installed and the only character trait people resumed him to was how proud he was, no one really tried to get past that. So, Atsumu decided to force the trait a little. Because, even if it was bad, at least people paid attention to him when he was being insufferable. He started to hate the two words “shut up” during that time. It represented most of the interactions he had with other kids. Even when he was six or seven, and he didn’t fully realize that no one liking you besides your brother wasn’t really normal, he would lay awake at night sometimes wondering why he felt so lonely.  
Fast forward to middle school and things didn’t really get better. The volleyball team didn’t mind him because he was good but that was all. At most, Aran was annoyed with him and that was it. He was pretty sure the other boy considered him more of an annoyance than a friend. And at this point he also started to notice that his brother was starting to make friends. Osamu was often out on weekends, hanging out with other people. He just stayed home and waited for his brother to return. People liked him from a distance. When they just took in account his looks and didn’t search past that. And, since they were often too intimidated to come talk to him directly, they would ask others about him. They always said the same things.

“Don’t bother, you’re just going to lose time and energy”

“He’s not worth it past the pretty exterior”

“If that’s the only thing you like, you should go talk to his brother, he’s much better”

During that time, something else came along with the loneliness clinging to him every time the setter noticed he had no contact in his phone past when people had to work with him for group projects. A fear that slowly wormed its way into his brain and settled in. If he was not better at anything asides from volleyball but not a lot of people cared about that and looks, what would happen if he lost the latter? Atsumu didn’t doubt his abilities in the former and no amount of comments would change that. But he had to be the best to stay useful to his team, and surely watching his weight more closely wasn’t that bad of an idea, right? He could assure himself the only two things he was worth something for were staying steady, and that he wasn’t losing them. 

And he simply decided to weight himself every day and see how it fluctuated. So, Atsumu was very surprised when he saw how much that was. It could change up to 1 kilogram a day. And that just didn’t feel right. He also started to watch his figure a little bit closer. Sure, he looked good and he knew it. But what if he actually could stay within a small range of numbers. Then, he could be 100% sure that he always looked the same. Then, there would be no way for anyone to attack him on that. It was the only thing he had left, god please he couldn’t have that destroyed too.

(he needed to stop being so fucking selfish and superficial, that’s why no one liked him)

But to assure that, Atsumu knew he had to do something. If he kept his life like before he would not achieve his goal. First, his lack of any connections other people was an advantage for once. He didn’t have to worry about going out with others and them wanting to eat something. He could just stay home and control everything he put into his body. To start, he needed to check the calories of the things he ate most often. Which turned out to be a lot. Too much. Sure, he exercised a lot and that probably burned most of them but apparently that wasn’t enough to keep the numbers unmoving. And he couldn’t exercise so much that he burned everything. If he just took a first step by cutting out snacks and eating healthier in all meals, it would be a good starting point.

(It still left so much food going in his body every day. It would be so great if he could survive off of water.)

And it definitely felt good to have this control over what he put in his body and how it affected him. If he decided he wanted to not eat anything all day because he wanted the numbers to go down, he could easily do it. He was surprised at first, by how easy it was to ignore the hunger. Once you figured out it came in waves that you just had to wait out, it wasn’t too hard to accommodate to it. He was also a bit scared about the possibility of fainting in the middle of practice or a match. He just had to plan things out long in advance. For example, if the setter knew he had a match on a Saturday, he would restrict as much as possible during the week leading up to it. That way, the numbers would be low enough on the morning of the event that he could handle eating a big breakfast. Plus, he knew he would probably burn most of them while playing. And it was fine, he didn’t have a problem. There was nothing wrong with wanting to make sure you always look the same. He never lost a lot of weight at the same time. He was a healthy 73 kg, his methods just guaranteed that he never went above that number. If he really felt like he was going to cave in, he knew what to do. He’s never purged, never planned to. Too hard to hide, too much toll on your body and he’s always felt disgusted by the only idea of vomiting. He eats whatever it is that his body craves, or more precisely chews things until they’re reduced to a goo that doesn’t have any of its original taste left. Once it’s almost liquidy he just spit everything back out in whatever it was that he could find. That way his body could relish in the taste and feeling of having something in its mouth, but he didn’t really gain anything. It’s a habit he’s always kept, because it’s easier to give in to his wants in a way that completely try to ignore them and binge later. They still happened, but they were almost always at least manageable. The problem was each time his brain saw a number that was lower than his goal it would scream to just cram himself full of food until it hurt. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t make the losses last on several days. If there was free space inside of him his body yearned for it to be filled with triple the amount of food. But it was still fine because  
as long as he didn’t throw up he didn’t have a real problem, and his stomach was still so prominent. The people who had problems were stick thin and never ate anything. That wasn’t him at all. 

He didn’t tell anyone what he was doing because he could already imagine how they would react. His mom, worried for nothing over the fact he didn’t eat anything all day if he had a big dinner the night before. How everyone would suddenly pretend like they cared. His coach telling him that exercising 4 and a half hours a day just because you were terrified of gaining 1 kg and what it would do to your stomach was not normal. Like he didn’t know. That didn’t matter though, as long as he kept a good enough health to play, nothing else was important. Even if he started feeling weaker and weaker, if getting up a little too fast mad his vision swim and fill with black, if he lost his balance in the middle of hallways sometimes or if he needed more and more sleep lately, and even after two naps a day he felt like a heavy blanket was always weighting him down. He could already imagine Samu giving him hell for not doing things the right way, for destroying his health for something as shallow as the way he appeared to others. But of course, he wouldn’t understand, others liked his brother naturally. Which was fine really, he deserved it. His twin could have that while being a little bit less talented at volleyball and he dealt with the loneliness that came with being the best. 

(he never said the bad traits people attributed him were entirely wrong. One more reason to keep going.)

Atsumu only made a mistake once. When his brother caught him, crying curled up on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. He never ended up telling him that this had been caused by the 75 displayed on the scale and how he spent twenty minutes staring at his reflection and ended up concluding that the way his stomach bulged more than usual was disgusting and everyone could definitely tell how horrendous his body looked. Never confessed that this wasn’t a one-time occurrence either.  
Then the habits died down a little, he started playing at a higher level and he just couldn’t get away with as much as he used to. More checkups, more people concerned with his body 

(more strangers everywhere with their eyes judging watching staring picking how he looks apart.)

If he had no way of keeping the tight control he had before, he could still make sure he looked as good as possible on anything he posted online. He took hundred versions of the same picture until he found the perfect one that made it seem like he had no imperfections. And if someone else was putting it on their account, like Hinata on one of their team outings or Sakusa when they were still together 

(god that still hurt to think about, what if he always looked like he did on his Instagram then maybe Kiyoomi would have never left.)

Then Atsumu would just pick it apart for hours on end, trying to find even the tiniest default about him until he just saw everything that was so obviously wrong about him.  
Around 4 months after he joined the Black Jackals, he realized he was badly in love with Sakusa. Which was really not a good thing because it was obviously not reciprocated. But then it was? Honestly, he still had a hard time believing his half assed confession after a winning game while he was still high on endorphins actually worked. Well it clearly wasn’t all that effective since he was single just 5 months later, but how great those few months were. For the first time in a while, Atsumu started believing that maybe someone could genuinely like him for more than what he had to offer on the outside. 

(Look at how wrong you were, once he could have what he really wanted he left your sorry ass behind. So predictable, and you were naïve enough to believe he liked you.)

Granted Omi never offered a real explanation as to why he left but since he got with Oikawa and Iwaizumi not long after, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. He was a temporary distraction from what he really wanted.  
Atsumu often found himself looking for the comments people left about him online. He knew it wasn’t a good habit to pick up and that it wouldn’t bring any good thing, but he just couldn’t stop. He scrolled past the good ones usually and barely even looked at them. When the setter reached the ones that criticized his every move and anything he said he stopped to read them.  
“He’s so insufferable, I wonder how hard it is to play with him?”  
“God imagine when he retires, if he loses the body he has now. He’ll literally have nothing left, I’m sure Sakusa was clever enough to see that. Probably why he left too.”  
“I wonder how Sakusa even lasted this long with him? Like how long did it take for him to realize that the looks weren’t enough to make up for the rotten personality?”  
“I’m so happy that Kyoomi found two wonderful people to fulfill his life, what an update from before. Miya was definitely not the one for him, I’m pretty sure he was a terrible choice.”  
“I don’t think he’ll find anyone else but if he does, I feel so bad for the person who will have to bear Miya for the rest of their life. Like, that’s the worst curse I could imagine.”  
Fuck. Now he was crying, which he had no one to blame for but himself. It was stupid because those comments were not wrong. Most of them provided him with some kind of explanation as to why Omi left. It was better than the silence he received when he asked him directly. The spiker probably didn’t want to say to his face that he was nothing past his looks and that he was a disgusting person inside. That he probably chose a long time ago who he really wanted to be with but always thought it was impossible. So, he settled for the easiest choice available. Him. Atsumu, who no one else wanted, so at least he would have the guarantee that he wouldn’t leave. And when he discovered that the people he always dreamed of actually wanted him back and tat he didn’t need his replacement anymore he just dumped him. It was fine, he didn’t blame Sakusa. It already felt like he would never have something like that in his life again so the memory of it was good enough. He never expected it to last anyway. He never told him about his nightly sessions of crying while looking in the mirror either. Didn’t need to be more of a burden than he already was. And if he ever found out he didn’t want to see the pity on his face and the lies he would feed him just because Atsumu was so pathetic he couldn’t handle valid critics. And now Kyoomi was visibly happier too, which was good. He deserved it. Unlike him. Tooru and hajime were clearly better for him than he could have ever been.  
The breakup plus the announcement of the Olympic Japanese team lineup soon after made him spiral again. His brother wanted to go out to celebrate. 

(There was nothing to celebrate, he was a failure.)

But regardless, he needed to pick his habits back up. If only so he could make sure he was keeping the one thing that gave him what little value, he held. His position. And the way he looks too, because if he could still cling to the hope that Sakusa would come back once he was prettier skinnier then he didn’t need to let himself drift completely. He still had an objective to look towards to that way. A precise number. What he would do once he reached that was another concern entirely that he didn’t want to think about. He knew he couldn’t keep going lower and lower because there was always the risk people would suspect something, so he had to stay within a range. Currently, the setter decided that between 70 and 75 was a good midrange. Not low enough that someone would be worried or that if they did health check up something would seem wrong. But since he was currently at 80 kg, it still would give him something to focus on for a while. 

(He desperately wanted to look up Oikawa’s weight, because he looked so perfect and slim.)

And now he’s panicking because

(he gained. So much he stuffed his face like the fucking disgusting pig he is and now he’s fat and you can see it in the way his stomach sticks out so much more than usual in the morning. Normally it’s completely flat, he can marvel at how nonexistent it looks under his shirt when he wakes up, how it never goes past the waistband of his pants and if he doesn’t think about it he can almost forgets it exists completely and what a fucking dream that would be, if it could just disappear and never come back. But now it’s getting past this limit, it’s hideous and the only thing he can notice, and anyone would be able to see it too. And there’s no way Sakusa didn’t notice too, that’s why he left.)  
So Atsumu decides to skip lunch. It’s fine, he’s used to it and has learned from experience it’s much easier to eat a light breakfast and dinner than a big lunch. It balances things out more nicely and he has something to look forward to if he’s hungry during the day. He also has a good excuse to skip, one that others can accept. He doesn’t want to see them being a perfect happy couple. It’s fine if their life is good, they deserve it, but it doesn’t mean he has to witness it.  
The few times he catches moments of all of them together, online or in real life he can’t help but compare. 

(Did Kyoomi smile as much with him? Was he ever as open and had he ever been on the receiving end of that soft gaze?)

If he could, he weighted himself at noon. If the setter deemed the number too high, he would exercise more than what he already did in the morning. If they were good enough, 

(they never really were)

he would just sit down in a secluded area and will his body to forget about the hunger. If he was unable to weight himself, he would exercise anyway just in case. And then at night if hunger started to claw its way through his stomach he would just go to sleep. If you can’t feel something it doesn’t exist.  
The days blurred into each other and it became hard to tell when the Olympics were supposed to start exactly and how much time had passed since they all began to prepare for it. Atsumu just remembered sliver of what happened in practice this morning, and that Iwaizumi asked him to stay at the end when everyone was leaving. He barely knew exactly what he’d said, except that at some point his weight had been mentioned. That was enough to put him on edge, especially when he clearly had a worried look on his face. 

(What if he’s onto him? If he's found out he’ll be kicked out, that can’t happen)

he probably got a bullshit excuse out that was enough to convince the athletic trainer to let him go. But now he felt like shit. His nerves were all over the place. And then he made the mistake to go on Instagram. For once it wasn’t even to obsess over every single comment made about his body or how horrid he looked in pictures. He just scrolled mindlessly sometimes a “they look better than you could ever dream of” fleeting through his mind. Then he saw it. A picture on Sakusa’s account.

(He so rarely posted with him even after they went public, he hated the fact that people knew he was with someone as disgusting as Atsumu.)

On it, Kyoomi was smiling. Oikawa was leaning on his left shoulder dozing off slightly and Iwaizumi was looking at the both of them with pure adoration on his face. It was beautiful. Atsumu felt sick.  
It was like the world was even more foggy and blurry than usual. He somehow ended up in a closed bathroom stall. He felt worse and better at the same time. The small space made him feel safe, nothing and no one could get to him while he was hidden behind the closed door. But it was also dangerous because if someone did find out he was in there he had no way of escaping. He just felt like the world was still and he forgot to check the time, to see if he was supposed to be back to training with everyone else. He realized something was wrong when he heard voices calling his name. He still looked like a mess and he just felt unable to come up with a story realistic enough that no one would ask questions. And one thing Atsumu knew for sure was that right now he couldn’t handle being questioned and probed without breaking down. He just had to hope that no one would come here and maybe he could just melt in the floor and disappear.  
And then probably the person he wanted to see and talk to the least came in the fucking room. Oikawa Tooru. He was literally a better version of him that succeeded everywhere he failed. He was the main setter of his team. People appreciated his personality, online at least. His fans were always talking about how nice it was to meet him. He had Kyoomi and he seemed to make him so happy. He had another beautiful boyfriend who loved him since they were both children. Which meant he wasn’t always alone when he was young.  
(He’s so slim, he looks effortless always pretty never a moment when he’s not perfect. His stomach is always so flat.) 

(God how much he would give up to have a stomach than never fucking bulged.)

And then he knocked on the door “Miya, you in there?”. Atsumu desperately wanted to say no just to piss him off and then he would leave. He just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? He just disn’t answer anything and prayed that Oikawa would just leave. But of course, he stayed. Because his life was just easy and great like that. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now and your greatest desire is probably to claw my eyes out of their socket but I need to ask you something” Well at least he was right on one thing. His dignity was already in shambles, he didn’t really have anything left to lose so he could probably listen.

“I’ve noticed that lately you’ve lost weight”  
Shit. This wasn’t starting off in a good way. But he couldn’t know. He always made sure that nothing was suspicious and the few proofs that could have been left behind were delt with as discreetly as possible. 

“I think I know what’s going on if only because I’ve had run in with similar issues previously. I could be wrong, of course, but if it is what I think could you please talk to someone about it? Obviously, I’m not the one you want to confide into but at least consider it? This isn’t-“

Wait. Backtrack. “You’ve had runnin’s with that stuff before? What do ya mean?”

“Well, I’ve always kind of struggled with the way I look and how other perceive me. When I was in high school and no one knew me, when I failed to ever go to nationals, I used to really overwork myself because I felt useless. That led to me losing a lot of weight at first unintentionally and then it felt good to be able to at least have control over that, if not anything else. Now I’d like to think I’m at least partially recovered.”

Oh. That felt unreal. The one person he desperately wanted to take the place of having almost the same issues as him. Fuck. He never denied the accusations. Now he was backed into a corner. If he didn’t say anything right away and he defended himself now it would seem suspicious.

“Miya? Will you please open the door? I promise you I don’t know exactly what you’re going through or why you’re doing it but it’s not good for you.”

It wasn’t like he had a choice left now. He opened the door.

**Author's Note:**

> This ending was so rushed but I don't know how to write good ones.  
> I tried going in more depth on an eventual evolution of their relationship including Atsumu but apparently I don't know how to write relationships so maybe I'll add things to this later.  
> Thanks for having read this until the end.


End file.
